Something snakes around my waist and yanks me to the surface, and before I can scream and swallow water, I'm pressing up against a warm chest.

I first recognise the mother-of-pearl disk in the centre of the necklace lying against tanned skin, and then I recognise Ethan. I was so engrossed in my mission to reach the shell; I didn't notice his arrival.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim, looking into his eyes. They are dilated, the blue irises just thin rings around the large pupils, and he is breathing very fast, his nostrils flaring.

"Saving you," he gasps, and I can feel his heart beating really fast against the palms of my hands, his skin puckered with goosebumps. Everybody stripped down to their bathers and took a quick dip in the pool when we arrived at the waterfall... well, not me... I wanted my clothes to remain wet and on me a little longer. It was refreshing.

Why is Ethan so out of breath and looking so freaked out?

"From what?"

"Weren't you drowning?"

I laugh, shaking my head. That is not very complimentary of my swimming skills!

"I'm trying to get a shell, but it's like I've got air in my butt; it keeps on dragging me to the surface."

"You were diving?"

"Ethan?"

"You hate deep water, and you hate diving; it's terrified you ever since... I thought... I called out to you, but you didn't answer... and I thought... I thought..." I have a vague idea of what he thought, and I guess I can understand why he is upset and my nose is now being crushed into his shoulder, a victim of a very tight hug. Still, it's weird being held like this, having his face pressed into my neck. He is shivering.

I guess I'm not the only one suffering from PTSD.

Four years ago, I almost drowned.

It was terrifying! One moment I was searching for crabs on the shelf of flat rocks just off the main beach, and the next, I got swept into the ocean by a freak wave, and I couldn't fight my way back. The water was milling me and spinning me, scraping me against the rocks.

When I finally coughed myself back to consciousness, I was lying on the beach with a lifeguard kneeling next to me and the twins howling in the background.

According to Delia, my first kiss was with our school's swim team coach, who volunteers at the beach as a lifesaver on weekends. I told her that being resuscitated is not the same as being kissed and that my life will jump to a new level of pathetic if my first kiss was with a man old enough to be my father... and I cannot even remember it, because I was unconscious at the time.

I later heard that Ethan and Delia saw the accident happen. They were further along the rocks and ran screaming to where they last saw me but couldn't find me at all. Dell had a massive struggle to stop Ethan from just randomly jumping in too. They needed to know where I was first.

I'm glad she kept her head.

A couple of jet-bike riders saw their desperation and came over when the twins flagged them down. They found me and brought me out onto the beach in the designated swimming area, where Mr Applemore was on duty.

The horror of not being able to fight the strength of the water and the pain of the many shallow cuts all contribute to my current problems with fear and anxiety when I'm swimming, but the thing that gets to me most is the knowledge that if the twins hadn't seen me fall in and if there were no jet-bikers and Mr Applemore, I would've been dead...

And perhaps Ethan, too, because he was on the verge of diving in to search for me when they saw the riders taking a break, idling in the swells nearby. The what-if factor drove me out of my mind for months... still does.

"I'm fine," I whisper, stroking Ethan's hair. I'm rather touched by the depth of his concern for me. Isn't he the guy who loves causing me discomfort and mild pain?

"I'll get it for you," he says, letting me go, and I hold onto his arm, treading water with him. He makes a pretty good floating device. "Where is it?"

"I cannot see it now; the sun shone on it before." I look up at the sky with some disappointment, waiting for the drifting cloud to move out of the way again.

"Go stand on the rock; you might see it then."

"Yeah! That could work," I grin and letting go; I swim to the tall rock. I'm surprised to see how far into the deepest part I've travelled. Ethan is right; I never swim in this section.

The stone is uncomfortably hot under my hands and feet when I clamber onto it and gingerly step from foot to foot while I search for the shell. From up here, the light always seems to penetrate the water in a way that creates an optical illusion of no depth at all.

It never ceases to amaze me how clearly I can see the stones at the bottom from up here. I often sit here just enjoying the artistic display surrounding the rock. Photographs never capture what the eye sees from here.

I see the shell and clap my hands with joy.

"It's over there!" I tell Ethan, pointing at least half a metre in the wrong direction, giggling happily when he obediently dives for it and comes up empty-handed. The third time I misguide him, he almost accidentally finds it, and when his head breaks the surface, and he sees me laughing, he narrows his eyes, tilting his head.

"Do you want me to take you off that rock?!" he threatens, and I hastily shake my head, pointing him in the right direction this time. He is not biting, grimacing suspiciously.

"I swear, it's over there! Scout's honour!"

"You're not a scout."

"I would be if we had Scouts. I promise I'm done messing with you! I'm not stupid enough to mess with you after being caught messing with you." That is the truth. If I mess with him again now, he'll take revenge, and that could take many forms.

Grinning at me, still looking sceptical, Ethan finally dives again, and when he re-surfaces, he is holding up the shell for me to see.

"It's a good one, Kicks," he smiles. Really happy now, and also because my soles are about to catch fire on this hot rock, I try to leap into the water, but I'm too excited, and my feet are in too much pain to do it right. I end up gracelessly plunging off the rock.

"Sh#t, Kicks, are you okay?!" I'm once again being saved by Ethan, and this time it is my heart beating a little too fast, probably from fright.

"Yeah, thanks. Please tell me you didn't drop it," I try to push away from him, but he is not loosening the arm wrapped around me; he just hands me the shell with his other hand.

It is a beauty! It's not only intact; it's also perfect and quite large.

"Thank you so much," I smile at him, and when I try to swim away, he just holds on tighter.

"Ethan?"

"It's deep here..."

"I can swim."

"I know, but..."

"Dude! What is up with you? You usually throw me off that rock!"

"Yeah, but I do it at that side where you can stand." He points towards the other side of the rock, and I shake my head, giving him an amused look.

"I cannot stand there."

"What? Of course, you can! It's shallow there..."

"For you, maybe..." I gaze into his face, confused by the conflicting emotions trying to take hold of his features. He really didn't know!

"Sh#t! I'm..."

"Will you throw me off now?"

"No!"

"Please!"

"Huh?"

"I like being thrown off. It's like flying."

"What?"

"Why do you think I always get right back on it with you still there? I'm not a moron! Please?"

"I'm confused," he says, and I can see that!

"It's quite safe if I land far enough, and I always do," I explain, amused by his confuddled expression. "Besides, you're always there, ready to save me."

"Why were you freaking out about being thrown off the bridge if you like flying into the water so much? The bridge is much lower and less scary-"

"I'm not already wet and swimming and dressed only in my bathers when I'm on the bridge. I don't like flying when I'm all dry and dressed... unless I'm in an aeroplane... and then I'd prefer not to be heading into water."

"You're weird..."

I laugh, tousling his hair.

"Come on! Throw me in!"

He finally allows me to swim out of the protection of his arm so that I can scale the rock and get thrown off it a few times.

♂♀